


Youthful Improvisation: Not Always The Best Idea Once Adulthood Hits

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Shane Madej/Sara Rubin/Ryan Bergara, Body Writing, Creampie, Dirty Pictures, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Object Insertion, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 08:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15926336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: We all do some experimentation when we're young, okay?





	Youthful Improvisation: Not Always The Best Idea Once Adulthood Hits

**Author's Note:**

> Don't stick Sharpies in your butt. It's a bad idea.

“What was the first sex toy you ever bought?”

Shane kept his tone thoughtful, staring off into the distance.

The idea just popped into Shane’s head, and didn’t stop to let his brain intercept it. 

In fairness, they were both working late, on location, and that usually led to things going weird places.

Shane had a cup of ramen in front of him, and Ryan had a cup of tea.

“You do realize this isn’t breakroom conversation, right, Shane? Like, we’re colleagues, and at the end of the day, this isn’t the kind of shit that normal colleagues talk about.”

Shane made eye contact, and he raised an eyebrow.

Ryan, at least, had the good grace to blush.

Okay, so they weren’t, uh… they weren’t _strictly_ colleagues anymore, but still.

There was a time and a place for that kind of thing. 

Shane shrugged. 

“We know what kind of place we work at,” he said. “Remember the time with the fake butt on Ned’s desk?”

“Vaguely,” said Ryan. “Still!”

“Still?”

“Still.”

“Well,” said Ryan, and he cleared his throat, blushing. “I, uh… I bought a, y’know, one of those crappy pocket pussies that are in a fake beer can, when I was in college.” 

Shane snorted. 

“A fake pocket pussy?”

“Honestly,” said Ryan, “the best part about that thing was that if you plugged up one of the holes, it would just blow up like a balloon.”

“... what kind of a college student _were_ you, dude?”

“The kind who could only jerk off so many times in a day without getting bored,” said Ryan. “Who also had a nosy roommate.”

“Your nosy roommate didn’t wonder after you sitting in your room no doubt making even weirder noises than what would go on if you were just… y’know, fucking it.” 

Ryan shrugged. 

“We were nineteen. We all do weird shit at nineteen.”

“Including blowing up pocket pussies,” said Shane.

He had a vague idea of what Ryan had been like as a teenager - he got the impression that Ryan had changed a good deal, since he’d reached whatever flavor of adulthood he was currently inhabiting. 

It was an odd thing to think about. 

Then again, Shane had been an awkward collection of limbs and joints, and then he’d… hopefully grown up.

Sort of.

Inasmuch as he had grown up.

… sort of.

They worked at a crazy place, and sometimes crazy shit happened.

“Let me guess your first sex toy,” said Ryan. “I bet it was… some kind of ridiculous dildo.”

“When you say ridiculous, do you mean huge, or do you mean ugly?”

“I mean,” said Ryan, his tone speculative, “considering what a butt slut you are now -”

“Excuse you,” said Shane. “Now who’s saying things unbefitting for a conference room?”

“We’re not in a conference room. We’re in a break room. An empty break room, with nobody else around.”

“Of course you’re being a pedant,” Ryan said, but he looked amused.

“We could, theoretically, fuck here,” said Shane.

Certain bits of his anatomy were certainly… interested.

It was probably the tiredness. 

“I’m not fucking you at work,” Ryan said. “Or letting you fuck me at work.”

“Why not?”

“Because for all we know, this whole place is being filmed, and then we’ll end up in some kind of crazy sex tape, and then our rando fans will get to see your dick like they’ve been dreaming.”

“... that sounds downright _paranoid_ , Ry,” said Shane, shooting him a nervous glance.

“Better safe than sorry,” said Ryan, his expression flat out grim.

“So why are you telling me about your youthful pocket pussy shenanigans?”

“Because I’d theoretically say that on camera, if someone was paying me enough.”

“... fair enough,” said Shane, and he stretched, his hands behind his head.

“But yeah. Tell me about the first things you stuck in your butt.”

“I was sticking things in my butt before I got my first sex toy,” said Shane. 

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“What, really?”

“Why do you look so shocked? Didn’t you experiment?”

“I mean,” Ryan said, and he was rubbing the back of his neck, looking embarrassed, “I did all the standard stuff - I had a friend who told me about the sponge thing.”

“... the sponge thing?”

“Yeah. You know, you put two sponges in a cup, cover it with a rubber glove, then… y’know, go to town.”

“ _No. No, I don’t know._ ”

Shane was, frankly, flabbergasted.

He’d never even heard of this. 

“Seriously?”

Ryan looked nervous.

“I think you were hornier than I was,” said Shane, impressed in spite of himself.

“I was just more inventive,” said Ryan. “And I had friends with… well, they went to some weird websites.”

“Fair enough, fair enough.”

“But what were you putting up your butt?”

“Oh, you know, the standard stuff,” said Shane. “Mostly markers.”

“ _Markers_?!”

It was Ryan’s turn to look scandalized. 

“What? You never put markers in your butt?”

“The only things I’ve had in my butt are either attached to another person or made to go up butts,” Ryan said.

He still looked scandalized, and it was taking all the self control that Shane had not to start cackling. 

“Well, not all of us were quite so… careful.”

“You could’ve gotten a marker stuck up there!”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t,” said Shane. “But… I dunno. It was a unique feeling. I kinda miss it.”

“Oh my god,” said Ryan. “Some day, I’m going to show up at your house, and you’re going to have an unopened pack of Sharpies and a lecherous expression.”

“As if I have any expressions that aren’t lecherous,” said Shane. 

Ryan snorted.

“ _You_ were the one who taught me all about anal safety, and now you’re telling me that you stuck things without a flared based, small enough to get lost up there?”

“We’re not all so lucky to get ushered into the magical world of butt stuff by someone knowledgeable,” said Shane. 

“Still!”

“Still?”

“It’s just… you know. It’s weird to think of you doing that kinda thing.”

“Hmmm?”

Shane raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

There was something funny about this - seeing Ryan looking so boggled by something that Shane considered… well, normal.

Everyone had weird sexual experiences when they were of the age to experiment. 

Admittedly, his were a little weirder, but… eh.

He stretched, his hands behind his head, and he yawned. 

There was cool air, where his shirt rode up, and he glanced over at Ryan, to see Ryan’s eyes roving across his torso.

“Are you gandering at me?”

Shane put on his best Alan Rickman impression, ala Sweeney Todd.

“Oh my god, Shane,” Ryan said, and he was cackling. “You did not.”

“Gander,” Shane said again.

Ryan was still cackling, curling forward, panting. 

“We need to go home. To bed. To do not sexy stuff, just to sleep.”

Ryan snorted, but he nodded.

“You wanna finish the editing tomorrow?”

“Yeah, might as well,” said Shane, and he yawned, wide enough that his jaw creaked.

Ryan yawned back. 

The exhaustion began to rest on Shane’s back, like some kind of heavy weighted blanket. 

… yeah, no.

He needed to go home and sleep.

* * *

“So, like… when you say “Sharpies,” do you mean the kind that you sign someone’s cast with, or do you mean the kind that are, like… as thick around as my thumb?”

“You have pretty thin thumbs, Ryan,” Shane said, as the two of them ate their lunch in the Chipotle near the office. 

“Thin thumbs?”

“ _Super_ thin thumbs.”

Ryan held his thumb out, and he wriggled it. 

Shane held his own thumb up as well, and... well, Ryan’s thumb was still a lot thicker than Shane’s, but then again, Shane had long, thin fingers.

“Maybe that’s why you used Sharpies,” said Ryan, “since your own fingers are so thin.”

Shane snorted.

“It wasn’t like I was… thinking about that,” Shane said, and he leaned forward, so that his elbows were on the table.

“What were you trying to do?”

“At the time? I’d just heard, y’know, that it felt good if you did that. And I was young and pursuing anything that seemed interesting, so….” Shane paused. “What’s with you and your obsession with me sticking markers in my butt as a Youth anyway?”

He put effort into capitalizing the “Y” in “youth” as well, because he could. 

“I just… it’s weird to think about,” Ryan said, and he was blushing. “Because… you know, there’s something... there’s something kinda… kinda sexy, you know, about… about being so desperate to get off that you don’t even think about doing things safely, you just go for… .”

“Right,” said Shane. “I guess I could see the appeal of that, yeah.”

“You didn’t get all worked up at the idea of me fucking a homemade pocket pussy?”

“... no, honestly, when I heard that, I just thought of how hard that would be on my dick,” said Shane. “It sounds uncomfortable.”

“It was nice at the time,” Ryan protested.

“I’m sure it was,” said Shane. 

“So… would you ever want to do it again?”

“What, fuck a pair of sponges and a glove?”

“No, you said you never did that in the first place. Why would I ask you if you’d want to do it _again_?”

“.. .you’re in a pedantic mood,” Shane said, and he took a bite of his burrito. 

“One of us has to be,” said Ryan. 

His expression was downright _pensive_.

“You okay, Ry?”

Shane reached a hand out, rested it on Ryan’s wrist.

“Yeah,” Ryan said, and he seemed to shake himself out of whatever fugue state he had been in. “Sorry. Feeling kinda… you know, spacey. After last night’s late night and whatnot.”

“Right,’ said Shane. 

“Can I still come over?”

Still those same overbright eyes, and Ryan was licking his lips, biting them.

Shane wanted to kiss Ryan. 

This wasn’t the place for that, but… goddamn did he want to.

“Of course you can,” said Shane. “You’re always welcome.”

“Well, yeah,” said Ryan, “you’ve told me that. “But you know, there’s a difference between ‘you’re always welcome, but also call me so I can put on pants’ and ‘you’re always welcome, regardless of what weird conversations we have beforehand.’”

“If I was put off by weird conversations, I would have kicked you out of my house a _very_ long time ago,” said Shane, and he snickered.

Ryan snorted, and he gave Shane a wink.

Shane blushed.

Ryan grinned wider.

Shane sighed, and he took another bite of his burrito.

It was a bit like being young and horny again, only… not, for obvious reasons. 

He hurt in too many places, and he was too damn tired, but goddamn, he would have been happy to take Ryan into the bathroom and fuck him until they both got kicked out of the Chipotle, the city, the state, and maybe from the country, all for indecency. 

And yet.

He licked his lips, made eye contact, and then he looked down at his hands, blushing.

* * *

Shane got up to pee, halfway through the workday.

He came back to his desk, to find… a Sharpie.

A thick Sharpie. 

It was the kind of thing that you had to give an ID to buy, because the people who you were buying it from worried about it causing some kind of public unrest.

The marker was just… sitting there, innocent.

Shane glanced over at Ryan, and he raised an eyebrow.

Ryan was blushing, but he held eye contact.

Shane shoved the marker into his pocket, and settled into his seat.

He tried not to think of his cock swelling in his jeans, or the memory of the feel of the thing, inside of him.

The Sharpies he’d used as a kid had, admittedly, been smaller than the one currently shoved into his pocket, but… still.

It was so _smooth_ , sliding in and out of him, a smoothness he hadn’t been able to replicate, and it had been the first thing that had… stimulated him like that.

And now here he was, sitting, pressing his thighs together, biting his lip. 

Focus.

_Focus._.

He could do this.

He slid his headphones on properly, and he began to type.

* * * 

Ryan tapped Shane on the shoulder, and Shane nearly dropped out of his skin. 

It wasn’t that he was… jumpy, per se, but when he was hyper focusing like this, it could take a bit to pull him back.

“Dude,” said Ryan, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Shane. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look terrified.”

“Yeah,” said Shane. “I was into it, I’m sorry.”

“You want to stay in, keep working?”

“No,” said Shane, “no, god no, let’s go home.”

He stood up carefully, and he stretched, his back arching.

Ryan was watching him again, and Shane tried not to blush. 

It was one thing to know that someone found you attractive.

It was another thing to have their eyes roaming over you, obviously hungry. 

“Let’s go back,” he said. 

“Right,’ said Ryan. “Movies and... stuff.”

“You’re trying not to say Netflix and chill so people don’t leer at us, aren’t you?”

“... basically,” said Ryan. 

He was blushing, just a bit.

“Quinta is still leering at us.”

“Don’t say things that will make me leer at you, and I won’t leer at you,” Quinta called.

“That’s victim blaming,” Shane called back, as he got his laptop into his bag, then made his way towards the door.

He knew that Ryan was behind him.

The marker was still pressed against his leg, which was… weird, but he wasn’t going to complain too hard about that. 

It was a bit like having an erection, only not, at the same time.

It was a bit too obvious, and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

He wrapped his hand around the Sharpie, and it sent a shudder through him.

Ryan shot him a sidelong glance, one eyebrow up, and Shane blushed.

He shouldn’t have been, but… well.

It was hard not to, when Ryan was looking at him, when he had a goddamn marker in his hand.

… for fuck sake, he was going to end up with a fetish for office supplies. 

He needed to not have that.

He needed… he needed a lot of things.

He caught Ryan looking at him thoughtfully, and instead of saying something snarky, he blushed, all the way to his ears.

Jesus fucking christ, he was turning into some kind of ridiculous blushing virgin, which… really?

And Ryan was being smug about it.

Of course he was. 

Jackass.

If only Shane could find it in himself to be more than vaguely annoyed, and possibly - _possibly_ \- be less turned on.

If that was even fucking possible, god. 

* * *

Ryan pressed Shane into the front door, and he kissed Shane like the world was ending.

His tongue was hot and wet, as it traced across Shane’s teeth, and then he was sucking on Shane’s lips, and Ryan was groaning, moaning, trying to stay still, trying not to wriggle too much.

Ryan’s hands were sliding down between them, pressing against Shane’s cock, and then against… against the goddamn Sharpie.

For fuck sake.

Shane groaned, rolling his hips, and Ryan was… jerking off the marker.

“Why are you doing that?”

Shane was shaking, and that was unexpected.

Why was he so damn worked up?

“I wanna fuck you with a marker,” Ryan said, right into Shane’s mouth.

“... why?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Ryan said, and he sounded sheepish. “I’m just… I can’t get it out of my head, you know?”

Shane snorted. 

“You’re such a pervert,” Shane said.

“Says the man who stuck markers up his butt.”

“Says the man who fucked sponges!”

“... please don’t make me fuck a sponge.”

“It’s only fair, if you’re going to fuck me with a marker.”

“... I can’t argue with that,” Ryan said, and he ground his hips forward, his cock against Shane’s thigh.

“Uh, Ry?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re trying to give the Sharpie a handjob.”

“Oh,” said Ryan, and he sounded faintly sheepish. “But… well. I want to do some bad things to you.”

“What kind of bad things?”

“The kind of things I'm faintly embarrassed about,” Ryan mumbled.

“You’re embarrassed by most things,” Shane countered.

“I am not!”

“Prove it,” Shane said, more to be an asshole than for any real reason.

… being an asshole was enough of a reason, honestly.

“Fine,” said Ryan, and then he was… grabbing Shane by the shirt collar, straight into the living room, Shane tripping after him. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

Ryan’s hand was down Shane’s pants, and then it was… pulling the marker out, and Ryan was… shoving the marker into Shane’s mouth.

Oh god.

Shane sucked on it, awkwardly, clumsily, drooling down his chin, and the rounded bottom of the marker pressed against the roof of his mouth.

It clacked against his teeth, and it was… this was a lot hotter than it had a right to be.

He was flat on his back, and this would have been more embarrassing, if he had any shame left.

… he didn’t have much shame left, at present.

Fuck.

He licked his lips, and he moaned, as Ryan fucked his face with the marker, as Ryan stood between his spread legs, one hand curved around Shane’s erection, kneading it through the denim.

“Fuck,” Shane said roughly.

Ryan leaned forward, and he kissed Shane on the mouth.

“I’m gonna fuck you with this thing,” said Ryan, his voice rough.

“Are you?”

“I mean,” said Ryan, ‘that was what we were planning, isn’t it?”

Shane snorted. 

“Just checking,” said Ryan, and then he was kneeling in front of Shane, unbuckling Shane’s belt, then pulling Shane’s pants down and off.

Shane grinned, and he propped himself up on his elbows.

“You’re a total pervert, y’know that?”

His tone was affectionate.

Shane sat up fully, to pull his shirt off - it felt too strange, lying there with his dick out but his shirt on.

“You’re the one with the boner,’ Ryan countered, and he wrapped a hand around Shane’s cock, squeezing it, spreading pre-cum from the head to the shaft.

Shane moaned, his hips rolling up, trying to fuck Ryan’s fist.

And then Shane wrinkled his nose, because… Ryan had uncapped the Sharpie.

“What are you doing?”

“I can do other stuff with this,” said Ryan, and then he was leaning forward, his shirt covered belly right up against Shane’s cock, and... fuck, that was… that was a lot.

Shane licked his lips, trying not to wriggle too much as Ryan wrote something on his stomach, and then there was a tickle, and the Sharpie smell was stronger.

“What are you writing on me?”

“Just that you’re a pervert,” said Ryan. “Although….”

He stepped back, and then he was writing again, on a different part of Shane’s stomach.

“What are you… Ryan, c’mon! That’s permanent marker!”

“It comes off of skin,” said Ryan, in a distracted tone of voice.

He was paying more attention to his writing.

Shane shuddered, as there was more writing.

It shouldn’t have gotten him so worked up.

“You know, I never saw us in this kinda scenario,” Shane said. “I never saw myself here.”

“What, fucking a dude as good looking as me?”

“... sure, let’s go with that,” said Shane, and he squinted down at his own chest. “Did you write “ghosts are real” on me in permanent marker?”

“I was thinking of writing “I heart ghost kids,” but that felt weird, since I’m going to be fucking you with the thing,” said Ryan. 

He was grabbing Shane by the thighs, and he was flipping Shane, so that Shane was belly down on the bed, his ass in the air, his feet planted on the floor.

Oh god.

“... this is gonna get all over the coverlet,” Shane said.

“I’ll get a new one,” said Ryan.

He sounded distracted.

The marker was scribbling along Shane’s back, and Shane was squirming - he couldn’t tell if Ryan was drawing on him, or writing, or what.

It felt nice, at any rate.

There was a pause, as Ryan went to grab the lube, and then… oh.

Oh, that was cold.

That was cold and probing, and then there was a finger inside of his ass, while Ryan wrote something across Shane’s ass.

“I thought you weren’t any good at multitasking,” Shane said, and his voice might have been a little higher than he wanted it to be, but how was he supposed to sound normal, when Ryan was doing _that_ with his fingers. 

“I can write my name without concentrating too hard,” said Ryan.

“You wrote your _name_ on my _ass_?!”

“Yep,” said Ryan, and he was still fingering Shane’s ass open, which was way too good right now.

Shane was humping the bed, his face in his arms, clutching at the covers, humping the bed like some kind of horny teenager.

Fuck.

“Why would you write your name on my ass?!”

“Because I want to,” Ryan said. 

“I thought you were gonna make some joke about owning my ass,” said Shane.

He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that Ryan didn’t make the joke or not.

“Oh, well, that’s a given,” Ryan said, his tone casual.

He took his finger out of Shane’s ass, and Shane whined, his toes curling again, his teeth digging into his arm.

He wanted… what did he want?

He wanted to be filled.

“You are aware I’m gonna take a picture of this, right?”

“Just don’t send it to anyone,” Shane said, his voice rough. “I mean, other than Sara.”

“Of course not,” Ryan said, and he patted Shane on the hip.

Shane sighed, and then he shuddered as Ryan eased the rounded edge of the marker into him.

“God, this is, like, the most debauched thing that I’ve ever done,” Ryan said, and his voice was rough.

There was a click - that must have been Ryan taking the picture, right?

That… made it even more fucked up.

Oh god.

That picture was just going to be on Ryan’s phone - a picture of Shane’s ass, stuffed with a marker, with Ryan’s name written across it.

_Fuck_. 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” said Ryan, and he shifted the marker inside of Shane, which made Shane squirm.

“Fuck,” Shane said. “Deeper, please.”

“I’m not putting it any deeper,” said Ryan. “I don’t want it lost in there.”

“I never got it lost when I was a teenager, and got it pretty deep in there.”

“God looks down on idiots and drunks,” said Shane.

“What about drunk idiots?”

Ryan made an amused noise, and he began to thrust with the marker, gently, not deep enough to do much of anything for Shane, but enough to just… make him crazy.

Shane groaned like he was dying, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

It was a goddamn tease, and he was chewing at his own arm, groaning and panting, practically sobbing.

It was a fucking tease.

Oh god.

“How’s that?”

“It’s… it’s something,” said Shane. 

“Something?”

“Intense,” said Shane. “But not enough.”

“What do you want more of?”

“Deeper,” Shane said, because who needed dignity, when he was being fucked with a goddamn marker.

“I can’t go any deeper with this, I don’t wanna lose the marker,” Ryan said, as he kept teasing Shane with it, gentle swirling, thrusting motions.

Shane groaned, his hands in his own hair.

“Then fuck me with something else,” he groaned.

“What kind of something else?”

“I don’t fucking know. Your fingers. Your dick. Something else.”

Ryan snorted, and then the marker was being withdrawn, and there were a variety of sounds.

Shane honestly wasn’t paying much attention to them - he had his hand between his legs, and he was stroking his cock, desperately, humping into his fist, his face still pressed into his other arm.

He was going to end up with a whole fetish for the smell of Sharpies, at this rate.

He wasn’t sure what Ryan was doing, until Ryan’s hand was on his ass, holding it open carefully, guiding Ryan’s cock into his ass.

It was a _deep_ sensation, as it slid into Shane, a sweet, toe curlingy good sensation, and Shane made more than a few undignified noises, which made Ryan snort, his cock going a little deeper, deeper, until he was fully seated, his hips against Shane’s. 

“How’s that?”

“I like it better than the marker,” Shane said, his voice rough.

“Oh my god, Shane,” Ryan said, and he made an amused noise, curling forward.

Ryan must have lost his shirt at some point, because now it was skin on skin, and Ryan’s hot breath on Shane’s shoulder, as he began to roll his hips.

He was holding on to Shane’s hips, and then he was reaching around with one hand, wrapping around Shane’s cock, stroking it from the tip to the base, then back.

“Fuck,” Shane gasped, and his cock twitched in Ryan’s hand.

“Y’like that, big guy?”

“It’s pretty good,” Shane allowed, and he ground back against Ryan. “It’s… it’s pretty good. Pretty fucking good.”

He tilted his head back, baring his neck to Ryan’s mouth, and Ryan kissed along it.

They were both sweating, and their bodies slid against each other, as Ryan fucked into him, deep and hard.

Shane bit his wrist, and then he sobbed, as Ryan’s hand began to tighten and to speed up.

Shane lost himself in the sweet push and pull of their bodies, in the sensation of being filled, of being _fucked_.

He didn’t know how much time passed, he just knew that he was suddenly close - so fucking close, when had he even gotten this close?

He moaned like he was in pain, clenching around the dick inside of him, and Ryan made a broken, desperate noise… and then Ryan was cumming.

Ryan was full on cumming inside of Shane, and that was a surprise and a half, because _Shane_ had been the one who was super keyed up.

… unless Ryan was more into the marker thing than Shane had realized.

Huh.

Shane groaned, as Ryan doubled down, beginning to really jerk him off, long, confident strokes, and then Ryan’s other hand came into play, and it was rolling Shane’s balls, squeezing them, and that… that was what did it.

Shane came across the bed, across Ryan’s hands, across his own belly.

It was good enough to make Shane white out a bit, and Ryan made a desperate noise when his oversensitive cock was squeezed, as Shane’s whole body tightened up from his orgasm. 

The pleasure pulsed through him like the bassline of a techno song, and it left Shane limp and wrung out, flopping belly down onto the bed.

The smell of his cum mixed with the smell of the markers, in a way that was sexy but shouldn’t have been.

“Fuck,” Ryan said, and he slumped forward, his forehead against Shane’s shoulder.

He kissed Shane’s shoulder, and Shane sighed, beginning to relax.

Ryan pulled out, and then he made an alarmed noise.

“Uh, Shane?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you know how to get permanent marker off of skin?”

“... you didn’t think to look that up before you wrote on me?!”

“It was a heat of the moment thing, okay?”

Shane rolled onto his back, and he made a face as cum leaked out of him, dripping down his thigh.

And then he burst out laughing, because… well, there was Ryan’s name, printed in smeary black marker across his groin. 

“Did that come off of me?”

“You must have sweated it off, and it got on me,” said Ryan, and his expression was slightly panicked. 

“Well,” said Shane, in what he hoped was a helpful tone, “hopefully we can fix it.”

“ _Hopefully_!”

It was on Ryan’s chest as well, although Ryan probably didn’t want to hear it just yet.

Ryan flopped onto the bed, belly down, and he closed his eyes, making an annoyed noise.

“This is all your fault,” he told Shane.

“How is this _my_ fault?”

“Because you put the idea in my head,” said Ryan. “Did you know that there are three different subreddits dedicated to putting Sharpies in places that you shouldn’t?”

“... what?”

“People really like to put Sharpies in their butts. You gave me the idea, and now… well….”

“Well?”

“Now, I’ve got it all over me.”

“We can wash it off, don’t worry,” Shane said, and he opened his arms up, for Ryan to snuggle in.

“I’m an idiot,” Ryan said into the skin of Shane’s neck, “and you smell like ink.”

“That would make sense, yeah,” said Shane. “What with the fact that I’m covered in it.”

Ryan snorted.

“We’ll get it off of you,” Shane promised. “We might have to just… shower extra hard.”

“You think?”

“Totally,” said Shane. “And hey - tomorrow we can try the sponge thing!”

The long, pitiful groan that Ryan gave almost made Shane feel sorry for him.

Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com
> 
> * * *
> 
> There really are 3 different subreddits dedicated to putting Sharpies inside of yourself. Human beings will never cease to amaze me.


End file.
